


Broke the Mold

by sarahyellow



Series: Copies [2]
Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Blow Jobs, Falling In Love, Loss of Virginity, M/M, Pre-Serum Steve Rogers, Romance, Winter Soldier Bucky Barnes, civilian Steve Rogers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-02
Updated: 2018-04-22
Packaged: 2019-04-17 14:08:15
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 9,848
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14190660
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sarahyellow/pseuds/sarahyellow
Summary: Bucky was his Scary Hero. Steve knew that the very first time he saw him. What he didn't know, however, was how much Bucky would become.Companion pieces toCarbon Copy, depicting Steve's life with Bucky. Smut and Fluff...and smut.





	1. Scary Hero

**Author's Note:**

> In this fic Steve starts out small, and it explains how he got big as he is in _Carbon Copy_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter: Steve is rescued by and meets Bucky. He asks Bucky out.

Steve walks slowly backward in front of his group, leading them through the newest exhibit of the African Arts wing. He lifts his arm, one skinny wrist peeking out from his suit jacket as he points to the side. He’s borrowed his roommate’s fancy jacket, having wanted to make a good impression on his first day of work as a docent at the Met. The jacket’s a little big on him but, oh well. “Um, on your left you’ll see a collection of fifteenth century tribal masks and weapons. They’re all Wakandan in origin, and have only recently been revealed to be made almost entirely of the rare metal vibrani—” 

His speech is cut off by a sudden commotion in the next room. Shouting sounds from around the corner, which is the first thing that catches Steve’s attention. He furrows his brow in concern. This is the Metropolitan Museum of Art; nobody ever shouts. Steve holds up a hand to get the group of people he’s leading around to stop. “Hang on folks,” he says, voice low. He tilts his head to try and hear what’s going on.

“Hey little man, can we keep up the pace of this tour? Some of us have places we gotta be after—”

“ _Shh_!” Steve says. Around the corner, the shouting gets louder and it becomes clear what’s being said. Men are yelling for people to _Get on the ground! Get on the ground!_ There’s the sound of glass breaking. Steve blanches. He whips his head back to his tour group. “Get to the stairwell!” he tells them. He points to the opposite end of the room where there’s a nondescript door with a red exit sign above it. “That way, go!” Everyone in his group looks around in confusion and indecision, not enough of them going in the direction Steve’s indicated. “Come on! _Go_!” Steve urges again. Finally, everybody seems to process what’s happening and they all hurry towards the emergency exit. 

The last few people are shuffling through the door when the men round the corner. There’re all dressed in black tactical gear like bad guys from the movies, and they’re all holding guns. Steve freezes in his path towards the exit. A quick glance shows the last of his tour group going into the exit stairwell, the door swinging shut behind them. Steve gulps. He can’t go. He needs to stay behind and give the others a chance of escaping. Firming his resolve, he turns his back to the exit. He hurls himself in the opposite direction to where there’s a fire alarm on the wall. The gunmen don’t realize what he’s doing in time and he’s got the alarm pulled and blaring before they can stop him.

“Oy!” The lead gunman shouts, looking at Steve furiously. He points his weapon straight at Steve, baring his teeth with a growl. He’s got a gold tooth. “Shouldn’t a done that mate.” He’s got a South African accent. “Gonna have to kill you now.”

“Klaw,” One of the other mercs says, “We agreed no killing. Let’s just get the stuff and go.”

“This one’s gotten on my nerves,” the man— _Klaw_ apparently—snaps back. He re-sights down his pistol at Steve. Steve gulps. To either side of him, the other mercs are smashing into the glass display cases and removing the artifacts. Steve sees that he’s standing right next to a case that’s full of some of the Wakandan war weapons. He doesn’t even think, just smashes the glass with his elbow—pain flares through his arm but he ignores it—and grabs the cowhide shield out of the case. He gets it in front of his face just in time, and when the bullet from Klaw’s gun hits him, he barely feels the impact. 

Steve peeks around the edge of the shield. Klaw is sprawled on the ground, the bullet having apparently rebounded at him. He’s got a hand clapped to his thigh and he’s cursing loudly. “Fucking hell!”

Steve glances at the shield he’s still holding, eyes wide. The cowhide has a hole in it from the bullet now, and underneath, unscathed metal peeks through. The shield is made of vibranium, Steve remembers with relief. It’s good news. He hadn’t actively been thinking of that when he’d grabbed it out of the case. He’d just been acting on instinct. His shoulders sag in relief. Plain old cowhide wouldn’t have done much to protect him from a bullet.

“Give me that!” The shield is yanked from Steve’s hands. Another merc has his gun pointed at Steve’s head. He shoves the shield back for another of the men to hold. “Get on the ground, ya little punk,” he growls. Steve frowns heavily but he can realize when he’s beaten. He slowly lowers himself down to a sitting position, glaring the whole time.

“You’re not getting out of here with this stuff,” he tells the man. The building’s alarms are blaring, and Steve knows the cops are undoubtedly already on their way. 

From his spot on the floor, Klaw gives a manic sort of laugh. “Just you wait,” he says excitedly. “There’s gonna be a—” A huge, distant _boom_ sounds, drawing everyone’s attention. It sounds like a bomb’s gone off at least a block away. Klaw whoops in excitement. “That’s what I’m talking about!”

“Come on boss.” One of the other mercs is hoisting Klaw back up to standing. “Gotta get out of here before they realize it’s a decoy.” Klaw’s still laughing manically but he does nod and hop along with the man’s assistance. 

“What about the shrimp?” 

Steve flinches where the gun is waved right in his face.

“Shoot him,” Klaw says without concern. “Don’t need hostages today.” He waves his hand and all the other men start hurrying out of the room with the artifacts in hand. 

Steve tenses, moving to get up and do… something. “Hey!” he shouts. “Stop! You can’t just take—”

The sound of a gun going off makes Steve flinch and squeeze his eyes shut. White hot pain sears through his shoulder and when he looks down he can see that the bullet’s gotten him on his shoulder. “Ah!” He glares a the man with the gun. His eyes catch on a fallen artifact—a club sort of thing. Steve growls and lunges for it, fingers closing around the handle. With any luck this thing’ll be made from vibranium too and—

“You just don’t know when to give up, do ya?” The merc hits Steve in the face with the gun. The club goes sliding across the floor, out of reach. “ _Do_ ya?!”

Steve spits blood and glares. “I could do this all day.”

“That’s cute but I ain’t got all day.” The man raises the gun again, this time with the barrel almost point-blank against Steve’s forehead. Steve squeezes his eyes shut in apprehension. 

But the gun never goes off. Instead, there’s a grunt, a mechanical ‘whir’ sort of noise, and then the sound of bone cracking. Steve peeks his eyes open. There’s a man holding the merc’s neck at an unnatural angle, broken. He’s got a metal arm, and Steve gapes. “Who’re you?”

The man growls, tosses the dead merc to the ground at Steve’s feet, and takes off to tackle another bad guy on the other side of the room. It doesn’t take the mystery man long to singlehandedly dispatch over a half dozen people, and Steve is left clutching his arm and watching the scene go down with a sense of surrealism.

Who _is_ this guy?

.oOo.

“Hey.”

Steve looks up from where he’s being treated in the back of the ambulance. “Oh!” He can’t help the way his stomach swoops at the sight of the man with the metal arm. His hero. Well, his dark, metal-armed, scary sort of hero. But still… “Hey.”

The guy smiles a little. It looks unnatural on his face, as if he isn’t used to doing it (Scary Hero). “You going to be okay?” he asks.

Steve shrugs, then winces at the way it makes the pain of the wound in his shoulder flare back to life. “Yeah. Bullet just grazed me.”

“Oh. Good.” The man nods and shuffles awkwardly in place. He’s got his metal hand stuffed in his pocket. “That’s good.”

“Would’ve been another story if you hadn’t showed up,” Steve says. He peeks back up at the guy. “You really saved my butt.”

Scary Hero blushes. It’s kind of adorable. “Just doing my job.”

“…Who are you?” Steve asks.

“I’m Bucky.” He holds out his hand—the flesh one—for Steve to shake. “I work for an organization called Shield.”

“I see.”

Bucky stands there for a minute, not saying anything and looking kind of constipated (Scary hero). “Um, well I guess I’ll leave you to get fixed up.” He gestures to the paramedic who’s applying gauze to Steve’s shoulder. “Just wanted to make sure you were okay.”

He makes to turn away, but Steve surprises himself by calling out, “Hey, wait.” Bucky whips back around, looking intrigued. “Um…” suddenly, Steve’s shy. “Do you like coffee?”

Bucky frowns. “Do I like…”

“That is, I mean… Would you um, maybe want to get coffee or something? With me? Just as a way for me to say thank you. You know, for saving my life and all.” Steve regrets the words as soon as they’re out of his mouth. He’s about to ask the medic to just stop treating his wounds so they can get infected and he can die, but then Bucky is grinning at him like he’s said something especially nice. This time the smile looks natural.

“Yeah,” he says lightly. “Yeah I’d like that.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Up next: Bucky and Steve have sex for the first time


	2. Naggy Housewife

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Massive amount of nothing but sex. Plus some feelings and #relationshipgoals.

The elevator doors ‘ding’, and Steve’s eyes open. He hadn’t meant to fall asleep on Bucky’s couch. He blinks up at the ceiling once, twice, and then his eyes widen exponentially, the sound of the elevator opening taking on meaning in his mind: _He’s back_. He pops up and looks eagerly over the back of the couch. Bucky’s there, stepping through the elevator doors. He looks like shit. Like, _really_ like shit. Steve feels his stomach drop. “Aw, Buck.”

Bucky’s eyes find him. He smiles a tiny bit. He looks exhausted. “Hey baby.”

Steve hurriedly gets up from the couch and goes over to him. He puts his hands on Bucky’s waist, not missing the way that he winces. “How bad are you hurt?” he asks, looking up into Bucky’s eyes. With Steve in his bare feet and Bucky in his combat boots, the height difference between them is more pronounced than usual. 

“I’ll live,” is Bucky’s answer, which Steve doesn’t like at all.

“Come on,” he says, taking Bucky’s metal hand in his and leading him back towards Bucky’s bedroom. When they get in there he turns to his boyfriend and tells him, “Strip.”

Bucky’s eyebrow raises. “I hardly step through the elevator doors and you want to jump my bones already?” He smirks. “You get lonely while I was gone?”

Steve snorts. “Take off your clothes Buck.” He doesn’t say anything about the fact that he _has_ missed the hell out of Bucky. The Avengers have been deployed in Nigeria for nearly two weeks now. Lonely and worried for his boyfriend, Steve had started sleeping over in Bucky’s apartments several days ago. Now he’s horny, sure, but even worse is his concern for Bucky’s well-being. He’s got greasy hair and blood visibly crusted on his uniform. Steve gestures for Bucky to strip. “Clothes off, now.” Bucky huffs as if he’s put upon, but he does start removing his gear. His holsters come off first, then his jacket and vest and then his boots and his pants. He’s moving gingerly and it’s obvious he’s trying not to let it show. Steve watches it all very carefully, only half-admiring his boyfriend’s strong body when he’s scanning him for injuries like this. Bucky’s got bruising on his left thigh, just under where his underwear end. His flesh arm has a long strip of what looks like road rash on it. Steve has to grit his teeth not to say anything. “And the rest,” he says quietly.

Bucky gives him a _look_. “If you’re angling to get fresh with me doll, I gotta warn you: I stink.”

“Just take your t-shirt off,” Steve says. “I’ll help you get washed up in a minute.”

Bucky sighs but he does listen. His fingers find the hem of his tee and he lifts it up over his head. His grunt of pain as he lifts his arms over his head is muffled by the shirt, but Steve hears it. Bucky tosses the shirt aside and meets Steve’s disapproving glare with one of his own. “It’s my job Stevie.”

“Don’t you ‘Stevie’ me.” Steve gets up and goes over, hands already raised to touch gingerly at where Bucky’s clearly been shot in his abdomen. “Christ Buck.”

“S’already healing, see?”

“When did this happen?” Steve asks, because he knows that even Bucky can’t mostly-heal a bullet wound in just a day.

“…Last week.”

“And you _stayed_?” Steve astounds. “You _stayed_ and you kept fighting?”

“I’m fine,” Bucky grits, annoyed tone made more severe by the fact that Steve’s hands are running over his torso in a search for more injuries. He’s covered in bruises and some minor cuts, but Steve doesn’t come up with any more severe wounds. Bucky smirks in satisfaction when the smaller man doesn’t have anything else to scold him for. “You see?” he says. He takes Steve’s face in his hands. There’s a pinch between Steve’s eyebrows that’s cute but that he wants gone. He brushes over that worried furrow with his thumb. “Stop lookin’ at me like that,” he murmurs. “Hate seeing you upset.”

“You should look after yourself better then,” Steve grumps, but it’s only half as serious as it had been a moment before. This is only the third mission Bucky’s been on since the two of them started dating, but it’s already hard for Steve to bear. His feelings for his Scary Hero boyfriend are quickly growing, and he doesn’t really know how to express that besides saying “I love you,” or else scolding the hell out of Bucky when he gets hurt. So far, he’s stuck with the scolding. “Hate worrying about you,” he mumbles, not oblivious to the sweet look that Bucky’s giving him.

“Come and get in the shower with me?” Steve looks like he’s going to protest, but Bucky surges forward and kisses him sweetly. When he pulls back, the furrow has left Steve’s face. “Help me get clean, yeah?” he says. He takes Steve’s hand in his own and starts leading him toward the bathroom. 

-

In the bathroom Steve gets undressed. In the steamy enclosure of Bucky’s shower he peels Bucky’s soaked briefs off of him. He’s soft underneath his underwear, but Steve’s breath still catches at the sight of him. “See something you like?” Bucky jokes.

Steve scowls to hide his embarrassment at being caught staring. “Turn around,” he says firmly. “Want to see your back.”

Bucky turns obediently. His back has more bruises across it, but nothing that makes Steve feel like he has to verbally complain. Instead of saying anything he steps closer and places his hands on Bucky’s hips. He leans in and starts placing kisses against the skin of Bucky’s back. It’s slick from the water, warm. He lingers on the spots that are dark and mottled. He imagines the hits that Bucky must’ve taken from enemy operatives to give him bruises like this. His boyfriend doesn’t bruise easily, Steve knows. Not like Steve does, not when he’s got the serum running through his body. Bucky’s strong where Steve’s weak. It’s reassuring usually—a promise that Steve can trust Bucky will be okay no matter what. Only lately, after missions like this and with Steve’s feelings for him growing to boot, the promise doesn’t seem as solid as it used to. Steve can’t help but to worry and scold the man he’s secretly coming to love.

Steve runs his hands all along the skin of Bucky’s back, over the smooth planes and amazing muscles. Sometimes he has a hard time believing that Bucky’s actually ninety-four years old, even though he’s _seen_ the documentation to prove it. Bucky still has the body of a thirty-year-old, for Christ’s sake. Steve reaches up and pulls the tie out of Bucky’s hair, watching it fall down to cover his nape.

“Hand me the soap,” he says lightly.

Bucky grabs the bar of soap. He turns in Steve’s arms and smiles down at him “You gonna give me a rubdown Rogers?”

“Hmph.” Steve takes the bar from him, rolls it around in his hand and once he’s got enough lather built up gives it back to Bucky for safekeeping. He brings his hands up to rub over Bucky’s chest. He’s broad there, about twice as wide and a million times more bulky than Steve’s own skinny chicken frame. Steve loves it. He runs his hands over Bucky’s pecs, ghosting his palms over his nipples and down farther, over the flat planes of his abs. Bucky’s breathing has increased. Steve can tell by the way his stomach raises and lowers. Bucky’s excited at the touch and that gets Steve excited, pushes the angry concern for Bucky’s wellbeing from his mind. He skims his fingers lower still, trails them over the soft hairs that start below Bucky’s navel and lead to his pubes, which lead to... 

He’s hard—not very, but he’s firming against his thigh and Steve’s fingers itch to get on him. Steve’s eyes flick back up to Bucky’s face, searching. “Can I?” he breathes.

Bucky chuckles as if Steve’s said something funny. “Don’t gotta ask me,” he says. His voice is a low murmur, aroused. Steve leans forward, tipping up on his toes to connect their mouths and give Bucky a long kiss. Bucky’s hands find his jaw and his tongue is quick to slide into Steve’s mouth. Steve moans. His own hips jerk forward, cock taking interest. When Bucky parts from the kiss, his eyes are dark. “Gonna get on your knees for me baby?”

Steve makes some noise of approval and sinks down. 

Bucky’s cock is long and thick and uncut. Before Bucky, Steve had never been with an intact guy. It’s been an education and he’s fairly certain he’s developing a fetish. His fingers wrap around Bucky’s base and draw upwards, forcing the skin to gather over the head. Above him, Bucky exhales shakily. Steve glances up at him. Bucky’s face is slack with want. Steve absolutely loves that look on Bucky’s face, is continually amazed that he—skinny, sickly Steve Rogers—is the one who puts it there. He tightens his hand and fists back down, watching the way Bucky’s foreskin thins and draws down, revealing the slick, pink head beneath. Steve breathes out against it like he’s found a treasure.

“You going to put your mouth on it Rogers? Or are you just gonna stare all day?”

Steve pinches Bucky’s inner thigh in retaliation, but it only earns him a laugh. He opens his mouth and sinks down. As soon as he’s got Bucky enveloped in him, he hears Bucky hiss above him and feels both his hands thread through his hair, gripping his head. Steve groans through his mouthful—and it _is_ a mouthful. Bucky’s hot and thick and wonderful against his tongue and Steve loves how overwhelming it feels when he’s sucking him like this. The way that he’s full of Bucky—his shape, his scent. He’s full of him and he can’t escape him. 

He uses one hand to pull on the shaft, moving up and down in rhythm with the wet suction of his mouth. He runs the other over Bucky’s hip, over the side of his buttocks. He can feel the way the muscles there clench and bunch as he squeezes his ass in an effort not to thrust. Bucky’s hips shudder from time to time but he’s doing a decent job of holding himself still. The thought that he’s feeling so good that his body almost loses control gets Steve all sorts of hot. He loves Bucky when he’s out of control. One day, he’ll convince his boyfriend that he’s not too fragile for Bucky to fuck his face, to hold him down with his metal hand around his throat and just _take_ him. The fantasy brings another groan out of him. Between Steve’s legs, his own cock is hardening against his thigh.

“God, Steve,” Bucky slurs above him. “So good at this Doll. Sweetheart, so good for me.”

Steve hums, loves it when Bucky calls him all his silly pet names from the forties. It makes Steve feel special. Makes him feel significant, like maybe Bucky loves him too. He sucks harder at the head, letting his mouth draw off the crown in rough, insistent pops. He knows it gets Bucky off, and sure enough Bucky’s hands tighten in his hair, his moans get louder.

“Stevie, _fuck_. Fuck!”

Steve surges in harder, working faster, his jaw aching but not wanting to stop until he gets Bucky off, until he can feel Bucky’s come, salty and bitter against his tongue. He brings his hand off Bucky’s hip and cups his balls with it, rubbing and rolling them in his palm.

“Christ Steve, so close. M’close. Oh, _God. Fuuuck_.” Seconds later Bucky’s hips still and he comes in hot, drawn out pulses against Steve’s tongue. Steve swallows it down as best he can, but a little still leaks out the corner of his mouth. When he finally lets Bucky’s cock slip from between his lips and glances up, he’s blown away by the look of utter adoration on Bucky’s features. “Shit baby,” he huffs, still regaining his breath. He stoops and grabs Steve by his shoulders to pull him up. He presses Steve into the wall of the shower. The tile is cold behind his back but he ignores it. Bucky’s on him in record time, slotting their mouths together in a messy kiss. Bucky doesn’t seem to care that Steve’s just been sucking on his cock and has his come in his mouth, in fact, he licks into him like he’s trying to get a taste of himself. He sucks at the corner of Steve’s mouth where some of it has leaked out. “So damned good at that Steve,” he tells him once he’s got his forehead resting against Steve’s hair and his hand around his cock. “Want to make you feel good too.”

“Bucky, uh,”

“Love watching you suck me off. You’re so pretty. So sexy. Missed you so much.” Bucky murmurs an unending slew of sweet and filthy words for Steve to soak in as he jerks him off in his fist, tight and wet and perfect. It doesn’t take long for Steve to reach his peak, and when he spills over Bucky’s fingers it’s with a sob.

“Ah! Uh- _ugh_!”

“Shh,” Bucky soothes, hand releasing him and coming up to pet at the skin of his neck. “You’re good Stevie. You’re so good.” He’s quiet then. They both are, just breathing against each other and feeling the warm water spray around them and wash away their come. It’s calm, peaceful. It makes Steve not ever want to move. Bucky’s supporting his tired body against the wall—ridiculous really, when he’s the one who’s just returned from battle. But it’s nice for Steve and it must be for Bucky too because he just lingers there like that, placing kisses Steve can barely feel against his soaked hair. It takes a long while but eventually Bucky pulls back. His eyes are still warm on Steve’s. “Will you towel me off?” he asks, voice full of affection.

“Yeah Buck,” Steve murmurs. He steps forward, gets up on his toes to peck another kiss to Bucky’s lips, then takes his metal hand in his and leads him from the shower and out to the bathroom beyond.

-

In Bucky's bed, Steve’s had Bucky lay down on his back so that he can further examine his body. “No exit wound?” he asks lowly as he runs a finger near the bullet wound. It’s almost healed but Steve doesn’t have to let that soften his countenance as he looks at it. He glares at it as if it’s personally insulted him.

“No,” Bucky answers. He’s watching Steve carefully, probably wondering if he’s still grumpy at him. “Natasha had to dig it out,” he says. “It healed within hours after that.”

“Really?”

“Really,” Bucky nods. “I was never in any real danger Steve.”

“Hmph.” It’s Steve’s traditional response when he doesn’t agree, but Bucky lets it lie. Steve lays himself over Bucky, his large frame easily supporting Steve’s own. “Missed you, Jerk,” he says.

“You too, Punk.” Bucky’s metal hand comes up and traces up and down the knobs of Steve’s spine. “…Sorry I made you worry.”

Steve sighs. “Not your fault.” He may not like the danger Bucky has to be in for his job, but he can at least admit that it isn’t Bucky’s fault when he gets hurt. “I just can’t help worrying. Just call me your naggy housewife, I guess,” he gripes. 

Bucky’s silent for a long moment, still. His hand has paused in its soothing pattern along Steve’s back. “Housewife, huh?” he says.

Steve puffs a breath against Bucky’s pec. “Naggy. Yeah.”

Again, Bucky’s quiet. After a beat he asks, “Would you want to be?”

“Hm?” Steve doesn’t get it. “Be what?”

“…My naggy housewife,” Bucky clarifies. He’s still talking quiet and even, as if he’s worried about what Steve will say back.

Steve finally _gets_ it and he props himself up to look down into his boyfriend’s eyes. “What’cha saying Buck?”

Bucky blushes, lowers his eyelashes. “Want you to move in with me,” he admits quietly. It’s adorable.

“Oh, _Buck_ —”

“Sorry,” Bucky blurts. “It’s too fast I know. You’ve got Quill and the apartment and your place is closer to the college, I know. It wouldn’t make any sense I shouldn’t have—”

Steve surges down and cuts him off with a kiss, hands cupping Bucky’s jaw. Affection for the man beneath him is surging through him, bloomed huge and overwhelming in his chest. It’s why, after he’s come up from kissing him like a fool, he doesn’t think twice before saying, “I love you,” in a rush. Bucky’s face lights up like Christmas and that’s the only thing that keeps Steve from immediately faceplanting into his chest. _Jesus Rogers, way to spill the beans._

“Steve,” Bucky is saying, drawing Steve out of his head and his panicky thoughts that he’s gone too far. “Stevie.” Bucky’s hands cup his face. “I love you too.”

 _Oh_. Steve blinks down at him, his handsome, Scary Hero. “Really?” he asks.

Bucky chuckles, “Really really.” He pulls Steve’s head down so that their foreheads can rest together; close, intimate. “Was waiting for you to say it, you little idiot.”

“I was,” Steve licks his lips, “I was too.”

Bucky smiles—a Steve smile, the kind that doesn’t look fake on his face. “So will you? Move in with me?”

“Be your naggy housewife?” Steve teases. He feels like his heart might float away. Bucky wants to be with him all the time. Bucky _loves_ him. “Yeah,” he says. “I’ll move in.”

Bucky’s eyes crinkle in the way that Steve loves. “Good.” His hands leave Steve’s face. They migrate down his body, down his sides and onto the slim width of his hips. He holds Steve’s body firmly against his own and tells him, “Kiss me.”

Steve huffs as if put-upon but does so. He loves being ordered around by Bucky. He kisses him, lips sliding over Bucky’s in almost a ghost of a kiss, before sinking deeper into it and pressing their mouths together with the full weight of the passion he feels for this man beneath him. Bucky groans and opens for more, asking for Steve’s tongue inside of him. Steve obliges, taking pleasure in the quick, dirty slide of his tongue against Bucky’s own. They kiss and they kiss, Bucky’s hands sliding over Steve’s ass and Steve’s into Bucky’s hair, losing time to making out. When they part, lips spit-slick and reddened, Bucky breathes up hotly against him. “Want to go all the way, Doll?” 

Steve tries to hold it together, but in the end he snorts and lets his head fall down onto Bucky’s shoulder. “Do you mean you want to fuck me?” he asks, voice muffled by Bucky’s skin.

Bucky just huffs and flips them over, caging Steve in beneath his bulk. Steve moans and pushes against it, reveling in the feeling of Bucky’s chest against his, his thick thigh between his legs. “We haven’t,” Bucky points out, “not yet.” He kisses Steve’s jaw and flicks a kitten lick there. “And we don’t have to if you don’t wanna.” He thrusts his hips down so Steve can feel the weight of him against his belly. “We can just keep on with what we’ve been doing and—”

Steve shuts him up by smashing their lips together and thrusting his own erection up against Bucky’s leg. “No,” he says, feeling breathless. “No I want it. I want to. With you.”

Bucky smiles. “Yeah?” He knows Steve’s a virgin—in that sense at least. He knows Steve’s a bottom too, even though they haven’t discussed it. “You can take me,” he offers anyway, wanting to give Steve everything, even that. He doesn’t want Steve to be nervous, not ever. “If you want you can be the one to—"

Steve shakes his head immediately, shuts him up with a kiss. “No Buck. Not like that.” He runs his hands up and down the smooth and scarred skin of Bucky’s back and enjoys the shudder he gets for it. “That’s not how we fit.”

“Oh, Steve.” Above him, Bucky looks totally gone for him. “Don’t know what I did to deserve a guy like you.”

Steve smirks. “Well you did kind of save my life.” Scary Hero.

-

“Well you did kind of save my life.”

Bucky smiles. “Yeah. Yeah I did, didn’t I?”

“Mmhm.” Their noses come together, barely touching between them. “So are you gonna?” He pushes his hips up the tiniest bit in question. “Gonna make me yours?”

Bucky groans. “Yeah. Here,” he pulls back from Steve, gets up to sitting on his knees and scoots down the bed. He grabs Steve by his shins and shoves his bent legs up to his chest, bending him in half. “Hold still,” he tells him, glint in his eyes.

“What’re you— _Oh_!” Steve’s eyes widen as Bucky goes down where he can’t see and starts kissing at his balls. “Bucky, yeah.”

“Mmhm,” Bucky hums in agreement against him. He sucks Steve’s sack into his mouth, one side and then the other, rolling his balls around on his tongue and moaning like they’re candies that he loves. 

Steve grunts and swears at the feeling. “Ooh, mm yeah Buck, suck ‘em.” He grips his shins tighter, keeping his legs pulled up so Bucky can work. 

Bucky moves further down, licks a wide, messy stripe along the length of Steve’s perineum. His flesh hand slips between Steve’s legs to find Steve’s cock and rub him just under the head where he’s most sensitive. Steve cries out and Bucky soaks it up, wants to pull as many of those sounds as he can from his boyfriend. “So easy for me,” he murmurs lowly, going back to his work with his mouth. He sucks kisses into the skin of Steve’s taint and presses there with his metal knuckles, massaging and stimulating his prostate weakly from the outside. 

Steve groans in pleasure and frustration, canting his hips to try and get Bucky’s mouth where he wants it. It’s where he’s obviously heading, anyway. “Buck, Bucky _please_.”

Bucky teases him a bit more, returning to nuzzle his balls for a moment before moving down, down, down to the tight little pucker that is his asshole. It’s pink and hairless and Bucky’s got no idea how Steve keeps it that way, like a girl’s, but he never says anything. His Stevie is perfect for him and he doesn’t need to say anything, just needs to give him all the pleasure that he deserves. He presses a reverent kiss to Steve’s hole, the place where they’ve just agreed he’s going to bury himself. Steve’s given him permission and Bucky’s never wanted to eat him out so badly. He wants to _worship_ his little man. He covers Steve’s hole with his mouth, laving over him with his tongue and sucking. Steve _keens_ above him, loving it. Bucky pulls away the tiniest bit, just so he can tell him, “Fuck Stevie, taste so good. Got the most perfect little asshole.” Steve moans something unintelligible from above. He’s reached down to grab Bucky’s hand that’s holding his cock. “So pretty,” Bucky continues, rubbing his thumb under Steve’s cockhead in emphasis. “All of you, so perfect. Can’t wait to get inside you baby.”

“Yeah?” Steve whines. 

“Yeah.” Bucky goes back down, flicks at Steve’s hole in tiny, teasing licks just so that he can make Steve whine some more, so he can watch his asshole twitch. _Fuck_ , does he ever love watching it twitch. He brings his metal hand down and sucks on the thumb, getting it wet. He puts it against Steve’s hole, pressing with just the barest amount of pressure. Steve moans at the feeling and Bucky watches as his thumb makes him part, until the very tip of it is inside of him. Oh, but it’s beautiful. “How’s that feel?” he asks.

“Unf, good,” Steve pants. “You know it does Buck. Want more.” 

Bucky smirks and kisses the skin of Steve’s butt cheek. “I know you do baby. And I’m gonna. Just want to play with you first.” Steve groans again like it’s some kind of imposition, but Bucky just shushes him and pulls his thumb out. Steve’s hole winks at him and Bucky shoves his tongue in before it can tighten all the way back up. Steve makes a punched-out sound above him and it spurs Bucky on. He’s had his tongue in him like this before, has had fingers inside him before, but never with the knowledge that he’s going to be fucking him on the back of his mind. Knowing that, Bucky’s so much more enthusiastic in the way he eats Steve out. He fucks his tongue into him as far and as hard as he can. Steve’s body is tight, doesn’t want to let him, but Bucky just uses his metal hand to stroke the sides of his rim and persists with sloppy, careless noises. 

“Fuck, Bucky,” Steve pants from above. He knocks Bucky’s hand away from his cock and takes over the job himself. “Fucking love your—fuck—your beard. It’s so… ugh.” 

Bucky chuckles between his legs. He hasn’t shaved in nearly a week and he knows the scruff must be scraping Steve’s delicate skin. He lifts his head, spits a heavy glob onto his fingers and presses one, then two of them into Steve’s hole. It’s not as wet as it could be but they’ve got lube for that. “Like that beard burn baby?” he teases as he works the fingers into him. 

Steve’s little hand is jerking his cock more completely than Bucky’d been doing, and his eyes are dark and lust-blown as he looks down to meet his gaze. “Yeah,” he husks. “Love everything you do to me.” 

Bucky smirks. Watching Steve touch himself is one of the most erotic sights he’s ever seen, that he thinks he’ll ever see. One of these days he’s just going to make Steve sit down and touch himself, over and over, until Bucky says he can go all the way and come. As it is now he keeps fucking his fingers into him, curling them to get Steve keening, scissoring them to stretch out his rim. “Gotta relax for me,” he murmurs, even though Steve’s already doing a fine enough job of it. Steve’s eyes darken further at the words though and Bucky soaks up the way that he’s looking at him. “Don’t come,” he says, clearly referring to the desperate way Steve is jerking himself. “Want to feel you come when I’m inside you.” 

Steve moans and squeezes his eyes shut as if what Bucky’s said has pained him. He yanks his hand off himself, clearly not sure if he can follow Bucky’s direction otherwise. Bucky hums in approval and ducks back down to lick and suck around where he’s got his fingers inside him. After another moment of this Steve’s ass starts to rock up against him in impatient little thrusts. “Bucky,” he breathes, “Bucky come on. Come up here.” 

Bucky pulls his fingers out, lingering there so he can watch the way Steve’s asshole clenches open and shut once it’s not filled by him anymore. He gives it a kiss as if apologizing. “Gonna fill you up,” he promises it, not even sure if the words reach Steve’s ears. Above him, Steve whines impatiently, 

“ _Bucky_!” 

Bucky climbs up his body, encourages him to let go of his legs where he’s had them folded so obediently. “Here,” he says, laying himself down in the cradle of Steve’s skinny legs. “M’right here baby.” 

“Guh,” Steve says, and pulls him into a kiss. It’s harsh, and desperate, and it tells Bucky all of the things that Steve’s too far gone to say. Bucky lets his fingers curl over Steve’s bicep and his hip, holding him, pulling him tighter against him. He loves how Steve isn’t afraid to kiss him after he’s been eating him out. It’s dirty and, in a strange way, it’s endearing. Steve’s so gone for him that he doesn’t care where Bucky’s mouth has been, just can’t wait to have his tongue inside Bucky’s mouth again. Bucky groans into their shared kiss and fucks his hips forward into the skin of Steve’s lower belly. “Gonna get in you, Sweetheart,” he murmurs against Steve’s mouth. “Can I?” 

Steve pants, his face a pinched picture of desire. He wants it, wants Bucky in him, and it’s gorgeous. “Yes,” he says, voice full of desire but now, also love. His blue eyes are full of it. “Yeah, get the lube.” 

Bucky blinks, dumb for a second until he’s not. He leans over to the night table and gets the lube, gets a condom too. He’s never used one with Steve before. Things between them have never progressed to the point of needing one before. It’s with a sense of incredible intimacy that he lets Steve take it from him and rip it open, their eyes not leaving each other’s. Steve reaches down and—gently, so gently—pulls Bucky’s foreskin down. He rolls the condom over him and then Bucky takes over and finishes the task while kissing Steve. Their tongues slide together, messy and sloppy and perfect. Bucky gets some lube on his fingers and smears it over Steve’s hole, presses it in the best he can. 

Beneath him, Steve is squirming impatiently and thrusting his hips up, dick smearing precome against Bucky’s belly. Bucky pulls away. “You want my fingers some more?” he asks. He has to be a good lover and ask, even though all he wants in the world is to feel Steve clenching around him. 

“No,” Steve whispers. “Want you. Please.” 

Bucky smiles, takes himself in hand and gets more lube on his cock. Steve just watches with a sense of wonder and _Oh_ , Bucky can’t wait to take his virginity. It hits him again then, the fact that he’s about to be the first one to ever get to be inside Steve like this. The first to get to make him feel good like this. The thought makes Bucky’s cock jerk in his hand, stirs utterly possessive thoughts inside him. He keeps them to himself though, just lines himself up and leans over Steve and watches his face, carefully, so carefully, as he pushes into him. 

Steve’s mouth drops open almost immediately. His brow pinches. “Ah! _Oh_ ,” he moans quietly. His fingers grip Bucky’s shoulders tighter than before. 

Bucky watches him for any sign of pain, but he finds none. Steve just looks overwhelmed and genuinely surprised, and that’s not enough to keep Bucky from slowly pressing deeper inside of him in a long, slow slide. Finally, after what feels like forever, he bottoms out, his hips meeting the curve of Steve’s ass. Bucky exhales shakily, the feeling of being inside Steve where he’s so tight and hot the most incredible thing. But seeing Steve take him is almost better. He lowers himself down, encouraging Steve to bring his legs up and wrap around him. “Feel so good baby,” he breathes into Steve’s face. 

Steve still looks overwhelmed, only now his features are bleeding into pleasure too. “Bucky,” he breathes. “Oh, you’re big.” 

Bucky’s lips quirk. “Don’t have to flatter me babe. You’re already getting laid.” 

Steve huffs and wiggles under him but that’s the extent of his protest. He thrusts up against Bucky a little, but they’re pressed as close together as they can be and the thrust only moves Bucky’s cock the tiniest bit inside of him. “Move,” Steve orders him. He pecks a kiss to Bucky’s lips and tells him, “Want you to fuck me now.” 

Bucky has to shut his eyes at hearing those words come out of Steve. He lays his head in the cradle of Steve’s bony shoulder and regains his bearings, just feeling the pulse of his cock in Steve’s ass and the warm, skinny body underneath his. He doesn’t want to finish too soon, not when he’s got Steve underneath him like this. He wants this to last. Bucky runs one hand down over Steve’s ribs and back up, runs the pads of his fingers over Steve’s chest and his nipple. A small, barely-audible noise leaves Steve at the touch, but his shiver is clear and Bucky meets his gaze. “You’re not sensitive here,” he says, nearly a question. Steve’s never been; Bucky’s always just played with his nipples because _he_ likes it, likes the way it looks when they’re all puffy and plucked. But now he’s got the nub between his fingers and Steve looks anything if unaffected. “Steve?” he asks softly. 

“Mm.” Steve wiggles, face going beautifully red. “Guess it’s different when you’re in me.” 

_God_ , but Bucky needs to move. He can’t keep holding his hips still when Steve says stuff like that to him. He pinches Steve’s nipple once more, harshly, and lets it go. He’s bracing himself on his elbows again, hovering over Steve, waiting. He doesn’t ask, just makes sure that his and Steve’s eyes are connected as he starts to move. Any sign from Steve that it doesn’t feel good and he knows he’ll stop. The guy who’d popped Bucky’s cherry hadn’t exactly been gentle, and he’s determined not to be a bad experience for Steve. 

But he’s not moving his hips for more than a few seconds before Steve is making that face that Bucky _knows_ means he’s feeling more pleasure than he—good, Catholic boy that he is—wants to show. Bucky leans down and noses his face, sharing breath with him. “Come on, Stevie,” he tells him as he rolls his hips, gentle and smooth. “You feelin’ good?” 

“Mmhm,” Steve whimpers, lips parting beautifully when Bucky thrusts back in in a way that he likes. “Oh, Bucky, yes!” 

Bucky chuckles. “Good. Wanna hear you Doll. Want you to let me hear all those pretty noises you do.” He thrusts his hips a little harder, little firmer. “Just gotta,” _thrust_ , “Just gotta get you worked up enough,” _thrust_ , “Don’t I?” _thrust_. Steve makes a ‘ _Guh_ ’ type noise of pleasure and Bucky groans. “Yeah, like that.” He dips down and licks up the side of Steve’s neck to his ear, tasting the salt there. “You’re so gorgeous Steve. Feel so good around my cock.” 

Steve whimpers again and Bucky takes that as his cue to really start moving. He moves his hips faster, selfishly enjoying the clench of Steve’s body as something just for himself for a few moments before he brings himself back and he sits up. Steve whines at the loss of contact but Bucky just shushes him and scoots his thighs under Steve’s, hooking his forearms under Steve’s knees and lifting him into his thrusts. Steve cries out at the new angle, at the easy way it makes Bucky’s cock drag over his prostate. Bucky grins above him. “Yeah?” he asks. “Am I hittin’ it?” 

Steve nods frantically and bites down on his hand. “Nng.” 

Bucky bats that hand roughly away. “Told you I want to hear ya,” he says. He takes Steve’s hand and kisses it in apology, then guides it down to Steve’s cock, a clear command to touch himself. “Make yourself feel good,” he says, and goes back to holding Steve’s legs as he fucks him. Steve does as told, his hand going down to wrap around himself and tug in insistent little pulls. He jerks himself in time to Bucky’s thrusts. It’s beautiful to look at and Bucky groans. “Yeah, fuck. Just like that.” Steve moans—a deep, uncontrolled sound, and it gets to Bucky’s bones. He _loves_ the noises he can get out of Steve like this. “That’s it baby, feels so good. Fuck your fist. Fuck back on me. Fucking wanna see you come.” He’s blathering, fucking into him faster as his own pleasure builds and he loses track of what he’s saying. Steve is staring straight up at him like he’s a god and Bucky wants nothing but to make him come, to see him fly apart when it’s Bucky’s cock up his ass. He moves harder, hitches Steve’s leg up higher with his arm and bends to press a kiss to his knee. He’s still rolling his hips to get himself rubbing Steve just right inside, and if the pinch of Steve’s face is anything to go by, he’s doing it right. 

“Bucky,” he cries, sounding completely wrecked. “Bucky m’close.” 

“Yeah?” Bucky asks darkly. He drops Steve’s legs and lays back over him, hips still working in the same, smooth pace. “Gonna make a mess for me baby?” 

“Ugh,” Steve moans, because they both know he loves to hear that sort of thing from Bucky. 

Bucky chuckles, then grunts as he can feel Steve tightening on him. “Fucking hell Steve, you’re gonna get me there.” 

Steve can’t answer, he’s too close. Bucky can tell. He reaches up and pinches Steve’s nipple with his metal hand, and he swallows Steve’s resultant cry in his mouth. Between their bellies, Steve’s hand freezes in its furious pumping, and wetness hits Bucky’s chest. Steve releases a long groan into his mouth. “Oh _God_ ,” he huffs when Bucky’s pulled his mouth away and is panting into his neck as he fucks into him in search of his own release. “Oh my god Bucky.” His hands come out from between them and wrap around Bucky. He runs them over his sweaty skin and drags his nails across his back, tilting his hips to encourage Bucky’s thrusts. “Come on,” he urges, still sounding breathless. “Come Buck, come in me. Give me your load.” 

Bucky grunts, his hips stutter once, twice, and then he’s gone, Steve’s words and his tight body sending him over the edge. He shoots off in the condom, pleasure blinding him to anything other than Steve’s body. God, Steve’s sweet body. He presses harder against his ass, grinding where they’re connected. 

Steve just shushes him as he rides out the wave of his orgasm. “That’s it baby,” he says, hips squeezing him and hands petting soothingly over his back. “That’s it.” 

Once Bucky’s come down from it and can open his eyes again, he sees Steve beneath him, sweaty and flushed and wonderful. “Ugh,” he groans, and a dopey, fucked-out smile splits Steve’s face. 

“Yeah,” he agrees. Bucky goes to pull out but Steve’s hands tighten against his shoulder blades, holding him fast. Little fucker is stronger than he looks. “Don’t,” he pleads. “Don’t pull out yet.” 

Well, if there was ever a command that Bucky wanted to follow… “Course babe,” he says, settling onto his elbows instead so he doesn’t crush Steve. His dick is softening inside Steve but he doesn’t dare move his hips. He gets that Steve wants to preserve the closeness. He does too. He leans down to press a gentle kiss to Steve’s mouth. Steve gives into the kiss easily and the two of them slide their lips together for a long moment. When they’re done and it’s just their breath mixing quietly and appreciating the color of each other’s irises, Steve says,

“M’glad it was you.” 

Bucky smiles softly. “Yeah?” Steve’s never _told_ him he’s a virgin, but Bucky’s pieced enough together to figure it out. “Glad I popped your cherry?” 

Steve rolls his eyes and blushes _massively_ , but after he calms down he gives Bucky a nod. “Yeah. …I love you.” 

Bucky _melts_ because _fucking hell_ , he’d almost forgotten they’d said that to each other. The thought makes his stomach swoop in an entirely different way. Grinning like a fool, he grabs Steve tightly to him and rolls them, somehow managing not to let his softened cock slip all the way out. He hugs Steve’s lithe body on top of him and buries his face in his neck, whispering, “Me too, Punk. Me too.”


	3. The Serum

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This time around: Steve gets really sick. Bucky proposes a solution--two of them actually

Steve listens to the beeps of the machine of the patient next to him. The guy’s doped up and Steve’s pretty sure he’s asleep. The curtain between their beds has been drawn but he can still hear the nasty sucking sounds that the tube draining the patient’s saliva makes. He’s had his jaw wired shut, Steve knows. With a wince, he reaches for the remote to the tv, hoping to drown out the noise with some inane afternoon program.

He’s just settled on an episode of the Dr. Phil show when he hears the door to his hospital room open. A second later Bucky comes around the curtain. Steve smiles. “Hey you,” he says. He hasn’t spoken in hours, not since the nurse brought him breakfast, and the sudden words make his chest seize up. He wheezes and lets out a terrible couch, fluid rattling in his chest. “Ugh,” he groans, slumping back into the pillows that’re propping him up. He looks at Bucky sheepishly. “Sorry.”

Bucky is frowning. Steve knows that he’s been worried sick over him. He’s been visiting for hours every day since Steve got admitted to the hospital with pneumonia. Now the doctors tell him he’s developed a bad lung infection, and after two weeks Bucky’s worrying has worsened and Steve is growing sick of the hospital food. “You sound terrible,” Bucky tells him, coming over to sit in the recliner by Steve’s bedside. He reaches out and takes his boyfriend’s hand, careful to avoid the IV port that’s taped to the back of it. 

“M’okay,” Steve tells him. “They’ve started me on a new antibiotic. This one’s supposed to work better.”

Bucky doesn’t look appeased. “I talked with your doctor Steve. He said your lungs aren’t clearing.”

“I shouldn’t have given permission for you to talk with him,” Steve grumps. “It’s only making you worry.”

“I have a right to worry.” Bucky reaches up, tucks Steve’s hair back from his forehead. “I’m so sick of seeing you go through this. You deserve better.”

“I’m sorry.”

“No.” Bucky huffs. “Don’t apologize babe.”

Steve looks down at the blankets that cover his lap, feeling put-out. “If I wasn’t—” he coughs wretchedly again. “If I wasn’t always so sick you could relax. S’not normal to have a boyfriend who’s in the hospital all the time.” He glances at Bucky. “I’m pathetic.”

Bucky’s face darkens. “Stop it. You know I hate to hear you talk about yourself like that.”

“M’weak,” Steve complains.

“You’re beautiful,” Bucky says. His voice is firm and maybe a little angry at Steve. When Steve sighs and starts coughing again because of it, he pats Steve on the back until it passes. “I brought someone to see you,” he says once Steve’s settled again. 

“What? Who?” Steve offers him a weak smile and looks over at the curtain the obscures the rest of the room. “Nat? Sam? You guys hiding over there?”

Bucky chuckles and just then a man rounds the curtain. He’s not anyone Steve knows, and he frowns. “Who’re you?”

“Steve, this is Mr. Ivanov.”

The man steps closer, looking friendly. He’s holding a manilla file folder in one hand and he holds out his other hand for Steve to shake. Steve does. “Hello Mr. Rogers,” he says. He’s got a strong Russian accent.

“Uh, it’s Steve,” Steve offers.

The man nods. “Yuri.”

“Nice to meet you.” Steve looks over to Bucky questioningly. “Why is he here?”

“He’s a Russian scientist,” Bucky tells him. “He flew over from Moscow just to see you.”

“Me?” Steve looks back at the man, confused. “Why?”

“He’s a friend of Nat’s,” Bucky is explaining. “Russian operatives recently uncovered a few packets of the serum in an old Hydra base.”

Steve is shocked. “ _Your_ serum?” he asks.

“Not exactly. It’s weaker—a knockoff so to speak.”

“Wow. Okay, but why—”

“I called in a favor. Or, well, Natasha did,” Bucky says, and now he’s starting to look happy again, excited. He nearly beams at Steve. “You’re going to get one of the packets.”

It takes a second for Steve to process that, but when he does he’s pretty sure his jaw drops. “What? _Me_?” He looks over at the man—Yuri—and sees him nod. “But… I’m not important,” he says. “How did you—”

“You’re important to me,” Bucky interrupts firmly. His voice is hard, leaving no room for argument. He squeezes Steve’s shoulder. “I want you to have it. It’ll make you better. You won’t get sick like this.” Then he averts his eyes and says quietly, “I won’t have to agonize that I’m going to lose you to some malady or other.”

Steve gulps. “But Buck…”

“Hm?”

“Will it change the way I look?”

Bucky shrugs. “Mine did a little. But the important part is you’ll be stronger. Healthy. I want that for you Stevie, more than anything. I love you and I want to spend my life with you. I…”—Here is where he gets a nervous look in his eyes. Steve is confused about it until he sees Bucky go fishing around in his pocket, and then he gets to his knee on the floor. 

Steve feels his mouth go dry. He inhales sharply and by some miracle it doesn’t set off another bout of coughing. “Buck?” he breathes, voice barely there. “What are you doing?” Bucky looks up at him and he’s flipping open the little box that Steve already knows contains a ring. “Oh my god,” Steve whispers. “…Bucky.”

“Steven Grant Rogers,” Bucky says, and already Steve can feel his throat closing up. “I have been through a lot of bad things in my life. Five years ago it got better, and I thought I had all I needed. My freedom seemed like enough.” He looks at Steve seriously, but his eyes are full of love. “But I was wrong. I found that out when I met you.”

Steve would cry, but he’s trying desperately to at least hold out until Bucky can finish what he’s obviously planned to say.

“After I met you I remembered what it truly was to be happy. For the first time in seventy years, I got to feel that again. Because of you.”

“Oh, Buck…”

It’s here that Bucky gets up. He goes over and sits himself on the edge of Steve’s bed, practically glowing as he looks at him. “I love you more than I have ever loved anything, and I want to spend the rest of my life with you, if you’ll let me. I want to—”

“—Yes!” Steve is saying, unable to keep from interrupting Bucky’s speech anymore. “Yes, yes. I’ll marry you!”

Bucky’s face splits in the widest grin Steve thinks he’s ever seen on it. “Really?” he asks, astounding like he can’t believe it even though that’s ridiculous.

“Of course you jerk.” Steve grabs Bucky to him and hugs him, finally tearing up a little when Bucky mutters an affectionate, _“punk”_ into his ear. Steve pulls back, holding out his hand. “Put it on me?”

Bucky smiles. “Yeah.” He takes the ring out of its box. It’s plain—just dark metal with a groove all the way around in the middle. Steve loves it to death. “Here.” Bucky takes Steve’s left hand in his. He’s still got the IV taped there but it doesn’t get in the way as Bucky slides it onto his finger. It’s a perfect fit. 

Steve can only stare at the thing on his hand for a long moment, feeling overwhelmed and in near-disbelief. “God Bucky, it’s perfect. You’re perfect.” He looks back up, shares a watery smile with his boyfriend—now _fiancée_ —he astounds, and grabs the front of his shirt to pull him into what is probably the most passionate kiss they’ve ever shared. If it’s not, it certainly feels like it.

Behind them, Yuri clears his throat.

Steve pulls back and both he and Bucky turn their heads to look at the other man. Yuri looks vaguely embarrassed but he offers them a smile too. “Congratulations,” he says.

Steve is blushing, he can feel it. But he says, “Thank you,” anyway. He looks back to Bucky. “Hey,” he says softly, heart feeling like a helium balloon. “I love you.”

Bucky squeezes his hand. “Love you too. So much.” Then, more quietly, “Thank you for saying yes.”

Steve melts a little. “Like I’d ever say anything else.”

Again, Yuri clears his throat. “Um, I know this is a joyous occasion but would you like to discuss the other matter at hand?”

“Oh!” Steve nods. He looks nervously at Bucky. “What do you think Buck?”

Bucky squeezes his hand again, this time more firmly. “I want to spend the rest of my life with you Steve. So yeah, I want you to have it.”

“Is it risky? The procedure?”

Bucky asks Yuri, “Will you explain it to him?”

“Yes.” Yuri hands the folder he’s been holding over to Steve and allows him to take it. As Steve opens it and starts reading through the pages, he commences to get a long and only-slightly confusing explanation about what he’ll have to go through if he really wants to get the “knockoff” version of Bucky’s serum.

.oOo.


End file.
